The Punishment
by Lemur76
Summary: It's Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are fighting Horcruxes. Ginny is defying Professor Snape at every chance she can get. DH compliant. Rated M for a reason.


The first time she was punished during sixth year, Ginny Weasley was taken down a long corridor in the dungeons of the castle

Disclaimers: I do not own any of these characters.

A/N: The following story contains adult material. It is rated "M" for a reason. Please do not continue reading if you are underage. Thank you.

A/N: Surprisingly, I think this whole fic is DH compliant. I may have a few things out of order, but … deal with it. It's fanfiction.

The Punishment

The first time she was punished during sixth year, Ginny Weasley was taken down a long corridor in the dungeons of the castle. Her heeled shoes clip clopped behind Professor Snape. With a stony expression, she objectively viewed the man who led the way to her destination.

She had grown like a weed this summer, reaching five foot seven inches right before school had begun on the first of September. Her heels added another two inches to her height. If her potions professor…. Sorry, if the_ Headmaster_ turned around, she would only have to look up a couple of inches to stare straight at his eyes. She found that she wasn't as intimidated by him as she had been before. His dark hair curled at the edge of his collar and she absent-mindedly wondered what it would feel like to touch one of those silky strands.

The Headmaster turned abruptly into one of the lesser used classrooms. After glancing around at the walls and noting the lack of windows, he cast a spell which slammed the door shut and locked it with a decisive click.

Ginny remained unmoved, glaring insolently at the authority figure which she despised. She shifted her weight into one hip, grasped her right hand around her left wrist in front of her body and sighed heavily. Why was he wasting her time?

He ignored her impertinence and said smoothly, "Do you know why you're being punished, Miss Weasley?"

As she shifted her weight onto her other leg, her eyebrows shot up and one of her hands moved to her hip. "No," she said frankly, as if she wasn't in the least frightened of him.

The Headmaster smiled humorlessly. "I thought not. The Weasleys… they're all the same. Stubborn and foolish. Not a good combination."

She continued to stare at him, her expression bored. "Is there a point to this lovely little lecture? Because if there isn't, I'd like to get to the lines that you are going to have me write. I want to get to bed sometime this evening." She examined her fingernails while she spoke, noting that she needed to change the polish sometime soon.

He didn't respond, and Ginny glanced up. He wore an odd expression on his face. "So you would like lines?"

Ginny thought this punishment would be the obvious form, as he had taken her into a classroom with the only items available to them being a quill and parchment.

Snape smirked. "Then you'll do lines tonight." He continued to stare at her as he waved his wand. A desk and chair slid to him, with a quill and parchment atop it. He watched as she slid by him, brushing against him, into the chair.

She picked up the quill and poised it above the paper, waiting for further instructions.

Professor Snape leaned over her shoulder, his lips mere inches from her ear and whispered quietly, "I want the ingredients and directions to the Veritaserum potion listed out fifty times. And, don't mess up. There will be consequences."

Ginny couldn't help the shiver that raced up her spine as she put quill to parchment. They had just reviewed the potion that day in class, under Professor Slughorn. She had memorized the potion a week before, and felt confident that she wouldn't have a problem with it.

Several hours later, she mutely stood, handed her completed assignment to the Headmaster and walked out the door. Her head was held high; her slim hips swayed. She didn't turn. If she had, she would have seen the expression on her professor's face.

The second time Ginerva Weasley was punished, she found herself walking along the same dark, dank corridor in the dungeons of the castle. She vaguely wondered why the Headmaster wasn't leading her up to his office in the tower, but found she didn't really care. She was more concerned with how Luna was being treated by Amycus than what she would be required to do for Snape.

They traveled into the same dark classroom, and the door immediately shut and locked behind her. Ginny remained unmoved, staring steadfastly at her former potions professor.

"Do you have any idea, Miss Weasley, how much this will cost you?" Professor Snape said, silkily.

Ginny chewed on a piece of gum and blew a large bubble. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She was no longer intimidated by this man. Next year, she would be free to do as she chose, once Harry had done what he needed to do. She had already determined that she would not return to Hogwarts if Harry wasn't going to return. Her mother could cry all she wanted. Ginerva Weasley was done with school.

"Turn around!" The Headmaster's voice was sharp and precise. Ginny paused a moment. What was going on?

Snape reached out and grabbed her wrists. Caught by surprise, she suddenly found herself leaning over a desk, her forearms and palms down. Thick ropes grew out of the wood and encircled her wrists. She felt a strong vine wrap around her ankles, holding her firmly in place. She pulled and yanked, but to no avail. She was firmly trapped in place.

"I don't think lines were enough," explained the Headmaster.

Ginny gulped. For the first time in her life, she was truly aware of how much power a member of the opposite sex could have over her. As much as she struggled, she could not remove herself from the binds. She realized that her skirt had hiked up considerably, revealing the backs of her thighs, right below her bottom. Utterly embarrassed, she stopped wriggling and closed her eyes.

She heard Professor Snape mutter a spell and a whoosh of air whipped by her face.

A small sigh of pleasure escaped his lips, and Ginny turned her head over her shoulder to see what had enticed the professor. A wooden paddle, approximately the size of a sheet of parchment, had appeared in his hand. He glided his palm along it, his fingers caressing the smooth surface. Ginny blinked in astonishment.

She had never been whipped before. Her mum and dad didn't believe in such things (though she privately thought that the twins would have behaved better if they had). Real fear crept upon her, and she quickly schooled her features so that she would not give away any of her panic.

"Ah, Ginerva. I think it is time for a different kind of punishment. One that will be longer lasting." Professor Snape smirked easily and met her gaze.

Resolutely, Ginny turned back to stare at the dirty chalkboard in front of her. She clamped down on the wad of gum that she was chewing and tensed her whole body in anticipation of the blow. She heard movement behind her and knew that the professor had positioned himself to perpetuate the maximum blow.

Silence. Then, an audible whoosh of air as the paddle connected with her bottom. Despite the layers of cloth that her skirt provided, Ginny still felt the sting of the firm piece of wood against her skin. A gasp escaped her lips. Stunned, she couldn't even cry out as the paddle whipped her once, twice, three times. More times than she could count. She couldn't swallow the strangled cry that leapt from her lips that were pressed tightly together.

Finally, all that could be heard was the professor's harsh breathing. Ginny closed her eyes tightly and sunk heavily upon the desk. Her mind was reeling. She had just been beaten by her professor. Spanked. Confusion, mixed with indignation, mixed with incredulity, filled her.

She felt him lean over her, strands of black hair falling over her cheek, his lips inches from her ear.

"I do not want to catch you trying to form that silly group again, Miss Weasley. Do you understand?" His voice was low, but sharp and unforgiving. "I don't want to see it in my hallways."

Snape stepped away from her. The ropes untangled themselves from her extremities, and she rubbed her wrists unconsciously. Her hair hung heavily around her; her face was wet with tears. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see this weakness in her.

She staggered a few steps, expecting to be stopped. But, the Headmaster didn't move. She stumbled towards the entrance way, her only thought was reaching the Griffyndor tower for refuge.

After a long, cool shower and a change of clothes, Ginny examined her bum in the mirror. It was blue and purple and yellow and green. The rainbow of colors covered her buttocks on each side. She would be surprised if she were able to sit down properly for a month. How was she going to get through classes tomorrow? She wasn't sure. With a sigh, she lowered the edge of her nightgown and wistfully thought of Ron and Hermione and Harry.

If she was with them, this punishment would never have happened. How angry she had been when she had discovered their disappearance. Ron, she could forgive. Ron was her brother. While they had been close in age, they hadn't been close in their relationship. Harry and Hermione, however. Harry had been her boyfriend for only a couple of months, but he had been a friend for years. Hermione had probably been her closest girlfriend since she had started Hogwarts. Why hadn't they confided in her? Why hadn't they told her where they were headed? She could have helped; she could have gone with them. She sighed.

She would do whatever she could to help their cause within Hogwarts. That was how she would help them.

The third time Ginny Weasley was punished, she anticipated it. In fact, she probably deserved it. She had good reason, she felt, for sneaking up to Snape's office and trying to get Griffyndor's sword. It was Harry's, not Snape's! And, she wanted to get it to its rightful owner.

Neville, Luna, and she had discovered the password to the Headmaster's office. In the cover of night, when all else was quiet in the castle, they had snuck up the stairs, taken the sword, and stole away with it. They wouldn't have been found out if it hadn't been for the poltergeist, Peeves, who had begun to scream at the top of his lungs. Snape had come rushing out of his chambers, dressed immaculately in his black wizard's robes, as if he had not been asleep. He was wide awake, despite the hour. It had been three o'clock in the morning.

After stunning Neville and Luna in quick succession, he had tied Ginny up securely. He floated Neville and Luna up to his offices to await his return and then had released a fearful Ginny. She had almost tried to run for it, but was, frankly, too scared to move.

She had struggled and resisted the entire way down to the empty classroom. Knowing what would come next, she dug her heels into the ground, tugging away from him. Snape stopped and looked back at her, his face impassive. With a simple flick of his wrist, he slammed her body into the heavy stone wall. Once again, the ropes appeared out of no where and bound her tightly.

The Headmaster summoned his paddle. She wore muggle jeans and a ratty old jumper. She felt a rush of cold air as she realized that her jeans had been easily removed. Snape hadn't uttered a word.

Ginny's terror overwhelmed her more than her humiliation, and she almost wasn't sure what she expected. Her thin cotton panties were exposed for him to see and after a moment, as the paddle descended, she almost felt relief that all she would get was a beating. Ginny braced herself for each blow, and the whacks echoed through the classroom.

After twenty-five whippings, the Headmaster dropped the paddle. She felt the front of his body press against her back. One of his legs was placed firmly between hers, and his arms covered hers on either side of her body. He smelled musky and male, and Ginny was a little surprised that she wasn't wrinkling her nose. She had always assumed that Snape would smell, well bad! But, he didn't.

He nuzzled her ear and said lowly, cruelly, "Harry Potter doesn't need _your_ assistance, Miss Weasley. He's doing fine by himself. Do not break into my office again."

He pulled away from her. Ginny didn't move until the door slammed shut and his footsteps disappeared.

She looked around. Her jeans lay discarded several feet from where she stood, and her wand lay forgotten on the floor. It had been in the back pocket and must have fallen out when Snape yanked them off. She reached down and began to tug them on gingerly. She winced. Her legs and buttocks were even sorer than the previous beating. Now that she was alone, she no longer felt frightened. Just unnerved.

For the second time, her Headmaster had beaten her, and while corporal punishment seemed to be common this year, it was the Carrows who were known for it, not Snape. And, it wasn't the punishment that unnerved her so much. It was afterwards, when Snape had pressed himself against her. She had felt every inch of his body from his long taut legs to his hard muscled chest and everything in between. In fact, this time, she had been sure that she had felt his hardened sex pressing against her stinging cheeks.

She had never thought about her professors as sexual beings before. They weren't supposed to have those thoughts or engage in those activities. It was like thinking about her parents having a sexual relationship. Ugh. She made a disgusted face.

Was Snape attracted to her? Or, was it the beatings that he liked? She wasn't completely ignorant of the act of sex. Her mother had taken her aside one summer and explained how things worked. She and Dean had explored each other's bodies on more than one occasion, and she and Harry had certainly done a lot more than explore. She knew what a male looked like when he was sexually excited. Harry's eyes had always darkened, and his breath had gotten heavy. His cock would get harder and Ginny had touched and stroked it until he came.

Snape didn't seem to find her exciting; he found the beatings exciting. That he could have such power over another witch or wizard had always been obvious. But, why her? Why not Luna or Neville? He could have lined all three of them up, beaten them silly, and no one would ever have known.

Maybe he wasn't into boys, which would explain why Neville wasn't being punished like this. Why not Luna? Ginny would have to think further on this.

The next day before breakfast, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were all summoned to Snape's office. The three of them didn't have time to speak before the Headmaster strode into the room, his black cape billowing behind him.

He stood in front of them, glaring at them equally. In his snide voice, he said quietly, "For your little stunt last night, you three will spend today and tonight in the Forbidden Forest." He paused and turned to leave. Ginny's jaw dropped. Hadn't she already received her punishment? Or, maybe he had beaten the others as well and this was the second portion of their punishment.

Snape's head turned back and pierced into theirs. "I wouldn't fall asleep in there if I were you."

Luna blinked calmly, swinging her legs back and forth. Neville glared back at Snape, and Ginny closed her mouth. As they walked back down to the Great Hall together, Ginny asked, "Did Snape punish you last night at all?"

Neville shook his head and Luna answered, "No."

Neville expanded, "We were sure that he was going to beat us into a pulp, but he merely gave us each a hard slap on the hand and sent us to bed. Why?"

Ginny shook her head, too mortified to explain what her professor had done to her. "No reason. Just wondering. That's what he did to me, too." She was quiet all afternoon.

She had the afternoon to think clearly, as Neville, Luna, Hagrid and she wandered the Forbidden Forest. The punishment wasn't much of a punishment. Hagrid laughed at their imitations of Snape and the Carrows. He brought them to a field of wilting flitterbloom, and had each of them collect a bag at dusk. Afterwards, Hagrid built a small fire, and they rested on the damp ground until the earliest rays of sunshine crept above the horizon.

Ginny lay drowsily, snuggled within her robes. She drew them closer to her, shivering slightly. Snape's comments after her beating the night before played continuously in her mind.

"_Harry Potter doesn't need your assistance, Miss Weasley. He's doing fine by himself. Do not break into my office again," _he had said. _"Harry Potter doesn't need your assistance."_

That sentence had echoed in her mind, over and over. Abruptly, she sat up.

"Anything wrong, Gin?" asked Luna.

Ginny returned her friend's steadfast gaze. She shook her head. "No. Everything's right." She sank back onto the ground, her eyes wide, staring up into the heavens.

Snape had revealed more than he realized. How had he known that Harry _was doing fine by himself? _He must have seen him. There was no other way.

If Snape had seen Harry, then he knew what Harry's mission was. Or, at least, knew that there was a mission. How? When? Where?

A plan slowly began to weave itself in Ginny's mind. As her eyelids descended and sleep overcame her, Ginny allowed a small smile to appear. She had a plan; one that was sure to succeed. Snape had already made their meetings possible; she merely needed to encourage another.

The fourth time Ginny Weasley was punished, she was forcefully removed from her Muggles Studies class by the Headmaster. It was three o'clock in the afternoon and Amycus had just declared that muggles were filthy, stupid creatures which would never amount to anything in the world. Ginny had stood up in the middle of the class, denounced all his theories, called him a liar and offered support to anyone who agreed with her.

Within seconds, Professor Snape had appeared at the doorway. With a tranquilizing spell, he led her out the door, down the hall, and into the classroom delegated as "The Punishment Room" in Ginny's mind. His temper was so high that he didn't even summon the wooden paddle. The rage pounded through him as he slammed the door shut and pushed her over the nearest desk.

In an alternate state of mind, Ginny realized that he was out of control with his rage, with his magic. He had no idea what he was doing. Ginny felt the ropes entangling her wrists and ankles, and felt her skirt being pushed up to her waist, exposing her backside. She wore a thong, a simple black undergarment. She wouldn't have thought that a thin piece of cloth would have given her much protection, but it had in the past. She winced slightly as his flat palm descended onto her backside.

Instead of a wooden board hitting her backside, a firm palm slapped her buttocks, first the right, then the left. Repeatedly. After each strike, his hand lingered for a slight moment, barely a half-second before relinquishing its grip on her backside. She would never have admitted it aloud, but the feel of his flesh against her own was stimulating. This part of her, which was never exposed, was on display in all of its glory for the world to see. And, her professor was assaulting it. Publicly, but privately. All at the same time.

A whirl of emotions swirled through Ginny. She had come here for a purpose, and she didn't want to forget it. After his assault, Snape leaned over her, as he always had, and Ginny, desperate to utilize the moment to its fullest, ignored the aching, stinging pain in her backside, and whispered, "Is he okay?" She licked her dry, chapped lips. She didn't even turn her head; she merely stared at the rough worn desk in front of her face. "I need to know."

She could feel Professor Snape tense behind her. Without warning, he whirled her around, setting her bottom on the desk, standing in between her separated legs. Grabbing her wrists, his face close to hers, he accused, "You did this on purpose."

Tears streaked her face. Ginny trembled as she spoke. "I… I need to know. Please." She lifted her eyes to his.

Her professor's eyes were black pools, blank and determined. "You silly girl," he stated. "There is no need to cry."

Ginny shook violently. Harry was alive. He was okay. She knew that Snape would have let her know. Sobbing uncontrollably, she grasped his lapels and buried her head into his chest, completely unaware of her actions.

"Stop it," Snape repeated. He shook her shoulders slightly. "There is absolutely no need to cry." She glanced up at him, not saying a word, a haunted look in her eyes. Snape stared back at her, mesmerized.

Severus had been completely unprepared for the youngest Weasley's eyes. They had looked so familiar, like the eyes that he saw in the mirror every day of his life. Her love for the Potter boy was overwhelming. It enveloped her entire being, and Snape knew, he knew, that his eyes had looked like that on the night that Lily had been murdered.

Ginny dropped her head once again, as if she could hide her shameful behavior if she did so. She shifted, wrapping her arms tightly around the only other human in her presence, seeking comfort. She clung to him, her forehead and nose pressed into his solid chest.

Something deep inside Severus tore a little, and he found that his arms wrapped themselves unwillingly around the small form. He clung to her as tightly as she clung to him, protectively and soothingly. He stroked her back, running his fingers through her deep red hair. He turned his head to rest his cheek against the top of her head, and closed his eyes.

Every inch of her body connected to his. The long slim thighs wrapped themselves around his hips, her belly pressed up against his, and her breasts crushed up against him. They were molded together; two entities that had now become one in their desperation to cling to a hope. How foolish they would look if anyone walked into the room, but at that moment, he did not care. It had been a long time since he had given into the hurt and twisted emotions deep inside of him.

Her sobs quieted and her breathing calmed. He gently pulled away from her, his resolve returning. He needed to step away from her emotions. They would not help the cause. And helping the cause was his main focus.

Ginny seemed to come to her senses. She pulled herself out of her professor's arms, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't believe that she had just spent the last ten minutes being beaten by her Headmaster and then had cried in his arms about her lost love. How embarrassing. It was beyond what a normal sixteen year old girl should have to experience. But, the long lost love _was_ Harry Potter, and anything associated with Harry was a little abnormal.

She gently pushed away the arms supporting her and awkwardly stood. Avoiding Snape's gaze, she wiped her face with the edge of her blouse and trudged towards the door. Snape did not move.

She had reached the door, and was about to turn the handle, when he spoke.

"Miss Weasley, you would do well not to wear your heart on your sleeve. So often, the people who you love wind up in the worst circumstances." Snape had not moved. His back was still turned to her.

When she did not respond, he turned to her, his stance rigid and his jaw set. His black eyes bore into hers, and an emotion that she had never seen in them reflected in their depths. It was raw and uninhibited, and Ginny realized that her professor had always been guarded, that the meanness and rudeness had always been a defense. She had never really known her professor, despite the fact that she had spent over five years living in the same castle with him, eating meals with him, and learning from him. It suddenly came to her that this man before her had loved, too, probably as much as she had. And, his love had been as strong as hers, and was not returned, just as hers was not.

Harry didn't let himself love her because he felt that he had a duty to fulfill. Why hadn't this girl, this woman returned Snape's love? Was it because he was a greasy git or had she turned him into that greasy git? He looked sad, forlorn, exposed, bereft. He looked… human.

Ginny met his gaze, nodded once, then ducked out of the room. She didn't know that her professor had stood there for a long time, breathing deeply, trying to regain a façade that he had held in front of him for over sixteen years. She had broken it. And she hadn't even tried.

Ginny lay awake for a long time that night. She lay on her back, staring at the faded hangings on her four-poster bed. She sighed and turned to her side, her eyes still glassy, focusing unintentionally on the beam of moonlight that cut across the girls' dormitory, and lit the diamond cut rug on the floor.

Her encounter with Snape that day had been unconventional and strange. She had removed herself from the four walls surrounding her, Hogwarts, and had seen her Potions professor as a human being. There was an emotional attraction between them, one that she could not deny.

Who was the woman who had broken him? Ginny's curiosity was piqued. She spent two hours that night, her head swimming with every possibility, and finally fell into a disrupted slumber.

During the next few weeks, she wandered the hallways, staring at the witches who taught the students of Hogwarts. Was it one of them? She went to the library, dragged down a massive tome that listed the graduates of the 1977 class of Hogwarts, and then proceeded to research every witch she found. Some names were recognizable. Some were not. The two people who had intrigued her the most were James Potter and Lily Evans. Harry's parents.

How had they fallen in love? Had it been a school crush? Had Lily seen James, who was very handsome, and simply fallen head over heels in love or had it been a slow, gradual respect and deep-seeded feeling? Had their encounters been rash and … and physical? They had only been twenty years old when Harry had been born. Had they married directly after their graduation from Hogwarts? When had they entered the Order? At 17? At 18? That was only one year… two years away from where she was now? Was it possible to fall in love, marry and stay in love for long when you were that young?

Ginny sat in a dark corner of the library. It was almost curfew, on a Thursday night. She had unearthed a few pictures of James and Lily Potter in their school years from the depths of the library shelves. She stared at an immobilized picture of Lily in her fifth year. Tracing a finger over Lily's soft, frozen features, Ginny realized that there was a striking resemblance between herself and Lily Evans. Their auburn hair was nearly the same shade; their noses were slightly upturned and their eyes were a matching shade of blue.

Shuffling the pictures in her hand, she stopped at one which showed a Charms class at work. From the uniforms, she gathered that it was a mix of Gryffindors and Slytherins. The students looked to be third or fourth year. A dozen students were featured, each one performing a summoning charm at an appropriate time. Ginny almost passed the photograph to the back of the pile when something caught her eye.

She had looked and studied these photographs a half dozen times, but she had never noticed the pairings. Each Gryffindor was matched with a Slytherin, and Lily Evans was matched with a rather oddly dressed boy who seemed all elbows and knees. Ginny stared hard at the photo, studying the boy more intently. He was thin and reedy with a slightly hooked nose and a pair of dark piercing eyes. He was staring at Lily with hero worship in his eyes.

Ginny's jaw dropped. She gaped. Was this Severus Snape? Was that Lily Evans, turned Potter? They seemed to be in perfect accord with each other. In fact, Lily seemed to laugh at something that Snape said at the end of the movement sequence.

Severus Snape had been friends with Lily Potter. Lily, the mudblood. Lily, Harry's mother.

Ginny hastily shuffled through the photographs again. Yes, there was Snape, walking down the hallway with Lily. And again, in the Quidditch pitch, talking to each other before one of the matches. Clearly, they had known each other, and been friends.

Ginny's hand fell limp, the pictures falling from her fingertips. She stared blankly at the wall opposite her hiding spot in the library. Lily and Snape. Friends. But, what if he wanted something more? And, she had not?

Pieces of the puzzle fell into place before her eyes. Lily had rejected Severus and then had fallen in love with James. As much as Snape loved Lily, he would have been angry with her as well. He was displaying his long suppressed aggression towards Lily at her. What would happen if she responded back to him? How would he react? She was going to find out.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, disbelieving the thoughts running through her head.

The fifth time Ginerva Weasley was punished was intentional. She allowed him to pull her into "The Room" without too much protest. He growled, slamming the door shut, muttering a silencing spell.

She whirled around before he could even think of the best way to punish her. She took a step back as he advanced towards her.

"You have to stop them!" Ginny pleaded.

Her professor glared at her and didn't say anything.

"Please! Professor, I beg of you. They'll torture Neville. Please!" She wrestled her wrists from his grasp and faced him belligerently. "You have to stop them. You have the power to do so."

She had been backed into a solitary desk. The desk that she had come to know so well. "I'll… I'll do anything! I'll even pretend to be… her."

Snape stilled. "Who?"

Ginny licked her chapped lips and looked down at the ground. "Lily." Her voice was almost inaudible. If there had been any other sound in the room… a bee… a rustle of paper… anything, he wouldn't have heard her. But he did.

"You have overstepped your bounds, Miss Weasley."

She stared straight at him, impassionate. "You overstepped yours months ago, Professor." Her breathing was harsh; her movements stilted.

Snape moved towards her suddenly, smoothly. He stopped in front of her, silently waiting for her reaction.

Ginny compulsively leaned into him. Instinctively, she wrapped her lean fingers around his head and drew his lips to hers. Molding her lips against his, she kissed him with all the emotional turmoil she had been feeling from the beginning of the semester. She wasn't sure when he began to respond. She just knew that his tongue sought hers in a fierce tug-of-war for dominance. His hands roamed her back, and rested on her bottom, pulling her closer. Sensations poured through her that had never been evoked by any other human being. He was no longer her teacher and she, the student. They were intimately entwined, equals in heart and soul.

Suddenly, Severus wrenched himself away, distancing himself from her. His back remained to her, as he gathered his thoughts and emotions together. Ginny bowed her head, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. Neither spoke for several minutes.

"This should not have happened," uttered Severus, his voice low and mellow. "It _didn't _happen. None of it."

Ginny started, her head lifting abruptly. She drew in a sharp breath. "I… I…. I'm sorry."

The Headmaster whipped back around again. His gaze pierced into her eyes, into her soul. "So am I." Silence. Another moment passed, in which Ginny didn't move an inch. She wasn't budging, in her feelings or in the confrontation. "Get out."

"No." The word escaped her lips before she had consciously made her decision.

Severus approached her slowly, his hands behind his back, his head tilted to one side as if examining her very soul. "Miss Weasley, it is time that you understood something that you have been denying all year. I am Headmaster here, and you are to obey me. When I tell you to leave and to forget what has happened between us, you will do so. I will _obliviate_ you otherwise."

Ginny suddenly realized that he was giving her a choice. She could walk away now, with the memories still lingering between them, or she could choose to have him erase her memory of their encounters permanently.

Her tongue ran along her lips, and her eyes darted from side to side. She swallowed once before saying, "I will go, but I have to ask that you make sure Neville is safe. I know that you can do that. I know that you want to do that." She had taken a chance. She had acknowledged that the Headmaster was against Voldemort.

"It has already been done," Severus acknowledged.

Ginny gazed at him once last time. She nodded once, twice, then walked away.

Two days later, Ginerva Weasley was summoned to the Headmaster's office. It was in the middle of the afternoon. She had been sitting in Transfiguration, trying to vanish a mouse, when a first year had walked into the room and handed Professor McGonagell a note.

"Miss Weasley," said the Professor. "Gather your things. Go to the Headmaster's office immediately." Professor McGonagell's lips thinned and tinge of sympathy could be seen in her eyes.

Silently, Ginny collected her belongings, slung her bookbag over her shoulder, and trudged out of the room. As she made her way down the hallways of Hogwarts, she wondered what lay in wait for her in the Headmaster's office. Would Snape _obliviate_ her memory? Now that Neville was safe (he had disappeared yesterday, his clothing and books gone from Gryffindor tower), would Snape want his "payment"? Was she ready to give what she had promised for Neville's safety? Her steps slowed as she got closer and closer. She gulped and jumped in surprise as a gargoyle spoke to her.

"Professor Snape is expecting you, Miss Weasley. Please enter," commanded the creature.

Ginny knocked tentatively on the door. A moment later, it opened silently. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, awaiting her arrival. She walked into his office, her heels echoing on the stone floor. She stopped in front of the desk, meeting the Headmaster's gaze levelly.

"Sir, you wished to see me?" she inquired.

"Miss Weasley," he said. "Sit." A slight nod gestured towards a chair. With a swift twitch of his wand, the door shut and a gentle glow surrounded them.

He raised himself from his seat, his hands behind his back, his pace leisurely as he walked around the desk. "I want you to leave Hogwarts at Easter. And not come back."

Startled, Ginny gasped quietly. "But.."

"You need to leave," commanded Professor Snape, authoritatively. "Leave through the Room of Requirement. It will take you to Hogsmeade. I will meet you there and disapparate you to wherever you need to go. We will meet at one o'clock, in the Hog's Head."

Ginny sat still, staring vacantly at the corner of Snape's desk. "You're sending me away," she realized. "I… I didn't.."

"You need to leave," repeated Professor Snape. "Hogwarts is no longer safe for you."

"Professor?" Ginny asked quietly. "Was it… was it Lily Potter?"

The silence between them lasted so long that Ginny didn't believe he would answer her question. It was pure curiosity on her part. She had no business asking; he would not tell her.

"Miss Weasley," said the Professor, as he gazed out the window, "you have strength and temerity in abundance. If certain things should pass, I do not fear for your survival."

Ginny tilted her head upwards, watching the Headmaster in an almost innocent manner. "Are you speaking from experience, Professor, ?"

He refused to answer her question, staring out the window, though it seemed that his thoughts were not on the scene before him, but on a moment long ago in history, which was precious and dear to him.

Ginny stood, picked up her belongings and headed for the door. She paused before breaking through the charms that he had set around the room. "I'll be there tonight." Without another glance, she left the room.

Ginny slithered out of the Gryffindor tower at quarter past midnight. She had been lucky. No one had been in the common room when she had crept down the stone stairwell. In anticipation of the night's events, she had packed as many clothes and valuables as she could in her book bag. Under her school robes, she had worn several jumpers and her old ragged pair of jeans. Several layers of socks and a pair of sturdy boots covered her feet. Her wand was tucked neatly in her pocket. She paused before she exited the common room.

She wistfully thought of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, knowing that it would have been the best protection for her escape. However, she had something equally as good. Tugging a piece of parchment from her opposite pocket, she unfolded it and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The marauder's map grew like a spider web across the page. Harry had shown her how to work it one evening in his sixth year. She had seen it in Ron's room that summer. She had known the boys were not going back to Hogwarts and on an impulse, she had slipped it into her pocket.

Ginny saw herself inside the tower and traced her route with her fingernail. The path was clear from the tower to the Room of Requirement. The ghosts seemed to be hanging around the Great Hall, and the teachers slumbered in their beds. Even Peeves was wreaking havoc in a downstairs classroom. She couldn't believe her luck.

Within minutes she had entered the Room of Requirement. She had never seen it shaped like it was at that moment. It was the size of a large closet, with a lit lamp hanging on a hook and an entrance to a tunnel of which she could not see an end. Taking a deep breath, Ginny picked up the lamp and plunged into the darkness of the tunnel.

She walked through the tunnel for a few miles, climbing hills and descending slopes. Eventually, she came upon a portrait, the end of the passageway. She pushed against the heavy frame and it swung open. Peering around the edge, she saw a barren room. Dusty floors, empty tables with wooden benches. A rough hewn bar was on the right. Ginny crawled out of the enclosure, and stood in the middle of the room. She realized that she had been there once before. She was in the Hog's Head.

A loud crack sounded and the Headmaster appeared in front of her.

Silently, he extended his hand to her, and Ginny stepped swiftly towards him. She clasped his hand in hers. His grasp was smooth, warm and firm. She felt safe and secure, and knew that it was only an illusion. This man was dangerous, unpredictable, and she shouldn't trust him.

"Ready," he said quietly.

She closed her eyes tightly and murmured, "The Burrow."

A tight feeling encompassed her entire body. She felt as if she were being squeezed through a drinking straw. And then, it was gone. She felt a slight breeze, a drop in temperature, and opened her eyes. She was yards from her home.

Glancing up at her professor, she smiled genuinely and said, "Thank you."

Severus' expression was his usual coldness, blocking all sentiment from his companion. "Go," he said simply. There was no malice, no disappointment in his voice. He was simply a duty to her, or so he wished it to seem.

Instinctively, Ginny knew that she had to say good-bye. She wouldn't be seeing him again, ever. Deep inside, she knew. Catching his wrist, she tugged him to her, forcing his eyes to meet her own.

"Thank you," she said again. Gently pulling him to her, her mouth sought his in farewell.

With ironic childlike innocence, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed a man who had loved so fiercely but was never loved in return.

For a moment, he did not respond, but as she persisted, his defenses melted and his response was sweet and giving. His arms held her firmly, and she lingered for a moment before pulling away.

"Good-bye," she whispered. Her eyes held his for a moment, and then she turned and walked away. She disappeared within the protective charms, and a small part of her died, knowing that she wouldn't ever see the Headmaster again.

_Four Months Later_

Ginny strode across the side lawn of Hogwarts into a small copse of trees next to the lake. Behind her, the chatter of people and the noise of construction faded. They were rebuilding Hogwarts, and the entire wizarding community had banded together to help so that it could reopen for the fall semester.

Ginny had been scrubbing floors and painting walls all afternoon. Her ponytail sagged over one shoulder, and she rubbed a spot of dirt from one elbow. Her top clung to her from the perspiration that had accumulated. She tugged at her clothing, seeking relief from the hot sun.

They would take a rest from their work the following day and commemorate the witches and wizards who had died so valiantly in the war. Harry had disappeared several hours ago, and she suspected that he had sought some solitude. It was almost time for dinner, however, and she had noticed that he needed reminding when it came to eating three square meals a day.

She slowed down as she quietly approached the tombstones of several Hogwarts professors. Dumbledore's shone white and gleaming in the sun, but it was not at that grave that Harry stood.

His back was to her, and she approached him quietly.

Not turning, he spoke, "I suppose it's time for dinner?"

She stopped next to him, not looking at him, but at the engravings on the headstone. "Yeah, mum told me to find you." She didn't move, however, and she seemed as mesmerized as he did by the etchings.

"He was a brave and loyal man, Gin," Harry said quietly.

"I know," whispered Ginny. She suspected that she, and she alone, knew what the Headmaster had been to the school, to Harry, and to the wizarding community during the past year. She had not shared her experiences with Harry, nor with anyone. Perhaps someday. But not yet. Today she would cherish the moments and the memories that she had with the professor and with the man who had given so much and asked for so little in return.

With a quick wave of her wand, she conjured a bouquet of wildflowers and crouching down, placed them on his grave. She smiled half-heartedly and stared at the tombstone. She straightened and leaned into Harry to kiss him affectionately on the cheek.

Harry turned toward her, his expression quizzical. "What was that for?" She had not touched him in any way since their long-ago summer kiss in her room at the Burrow.

Ginny shrugged, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

Harry threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him, and guided her up the hill towards the castle. Squeezing her arm lightly, he said, "Thanks, Gin."

She tilted her head, resting it on his shoulder. They ambled back to the castle together, lost in each other and lost in their own thoughts.


End file.
